


Itchy, Scratchy, and the Dungeon Batty

by alwayslily22, Des98



Series: What if? [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Chicken Pox, F/F, F/M, Featuring baby Hedwig at the end, Fluff and Angst, Harry and Ron are adorable best friends, Hurt/Comfort, Illness, Lesbian Minerva McGonagall, M/M, Minnie and Poppy raise Harry, Sev is a cranky toddler, The house next door series, Toddler Harry, Toddler Ron, Young Severus Snape, and he’s becoming a better person, and he’s learning, because there was potential there, but he’s trying, cute oneshots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-06-11 01:38:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15304572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alwayslily22/pseuds/alwayslily22, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Des98/pseuds/Des98
Summary: Parenting is hard work, even with the best of children like Harry.  Especially when your precious little ones (and not-so-little ones) get sick.  Featuring angst, fluff, and three cranky toddlers.





	Itchy, Scratchy, and the Dungeon Batty

    Minerva and Poppy woke up late one Thursday morning, and the thing that immediately struck them was the lack of Harry’s chipper little voice.  A prickle of fear struck Minerva in the heart, but she told herself she was being unreasonable- he could just be sleeping in a bit later.

    “Harry?” She called, loudly enough for him to hear if he was awake but quiet enough that it wouldn’t wake him if he _was_ still sleeping.

    “In here mamas!” He called, sounding _not at all_ his usual cheerful self.  When they went to his crib, it immediately became clear why.

    He was covered head to toe in little red spots, and Poppy sighed- he’d already had his dragon pox inoculation, so it must be chicken pox: a childhood right of passage.  She _did_ wish the muggles would hurry along and make a vaccine for that.  But in the meantime…

    She looked down at her son, scratching his chubby little calf with a single-minded determination reminiscent of Lily when she was trying to figure out a problem.

    “Itchy,” he looked up at her, his spotty little face sporting a perplexed frown.

    “I know darling, but you _musn’t_ scratch- it will only make it worse,” she told him, pulling his one hand away from his leg and the other from his pudgy tummy.

    “But it _weally_ itches,” he protested, his lower lip jutting out in a pout.  “Itchy itchy _itchy,_ Mama Flower!”

    “I know baby, but we’ll get you feeling better soon- I bet Uncle Severus has something that can help.”

    “Unca Sevvy make da itches go away?” He asked hopefully.

    “Yes darling, we’ll see what he can do,” she promised, picking him up.  “For now, we’ll get these clothes off- maybe that will help, not having the fabric rubbing up against the itchy spots.”

    “My _whole body_ is itchy spots,” he sighed, nails raking his cheek.  Poppy pulled them away again.

    “I’m afraid I’m going to have to wrap your hands, darling, so you don’t scratch.”  Then she turned to her wife, mouthing “call the Weasleys and tell them we won’t be able to make it today.”

    While Poppy put soft socks over Harry’s hands, ensuring they stayed in place with sticking charms, Minnie went to the floo.

    “Molly, dear,” she called, and the plump redhead came to the floo, Ginny (who had just turned one the week before) on her hip.  “I’m afraid we won’t be able to make it to our usual Thursday play date- Harry has the chicken pox.”

    “Oh, the poor bean,” Molly clucked.  “But you know what? Ron hasn’t had them yet, and it would really be good to get them done both at once- the other boys had them before he was born, and Ginny’s a bit too young yet, but would you mind taking him, just so he builds up the immunity?”

    “Of course we can,” Minerva said.  “And it really _would_ be good for them to get them now, when they don’t have school or anything to miss and it’s not quite so serious as it is for the bigger kids.”

    “Alright,” Molly called through.  “I’ll get a bag all packed for him and send him on through- oh, itching potions certainly help, but so do oatmeal baths.  A muggle remedy, but it does wonders. Baking soda too, if oatmeal doesn’t do the trick.”

    “Thank you Molly- you’re wonderful, and we appreciate your experience,” Minerva breathed a sigh- it was going to be a _long_ week or two, with _two_ cranky, itchy toddlers, but it was the least they could do for the Weasleys, who had really been wonderful with parenting advice.

___

    In the meantime, Poppy had a very uncomfortable Harry on her hip, who was rubbing his mittened hands against his skin in dissatisfaction.

    “Itchy, itchy, _itchy!”_ He chanted, bouncing on her hip.

    “I know darling, I know,” she soothed, rubbing his back softly.

    “Back itchy too- no touch,” he ordered, whimpering as he laid his head against her chest.

    “I’m sorry dear- you’ll feel better soon, I promise,” Poppy felt truly terrible for him- he only got pouty when he was _truly_ miserable; she’d often seen him smile and get back up after scraping his knee or bumping into something, so for him to actually _complain_ was rare.

    “Does anything hurt, darling?” She asked, knowing that sometimes the illness was accompanied by body aches and other symptoms.

    “Head hurts- head itchy too,” he sighed, rubbing his face against her robes.

    They reached the door to Severus’ quarters, and Poppy knocked.

    _“What?”_ Came a irritated voice from inside, and the healer sighed- this wasn’t a good Severus day either, apparently.

    “Can you come to the door please?” She requested politely, and all she got in response was a muted groan.

    “Now isn’t really a good time,” he responded, and Poppy resisted her _own_ urge to groan- if Harry wasn’t throwing a tantrum, she wouldn’t either.

    _“Please?-_ I need something for Harry,” she pulled the ace out of her sleeve, and heard a put-upon sigh as the door opened.

    The reason for the young potion master’s theatrics quickly became clear as he opened the door.  His pale, frowning face was adorned in the same spots as Harry’s, but they were even more pronounced on his light skin tone.  He was scratching at his chest through his robes, and when he saw Harry, his eyes widened.

    “So _that’s_ why…” he exhaled, his fingers moving down to work at his side.

    “You itchy too, Unca Sevvy?  Mama Flower says we can’t scwatch,” Harry informed Severus, as the nurse gave him a dirty look and grabbed the arm that was moving up to claw his neck with her free hand.

    “Yes, _and he knows better,”_ she said significantly.  “No scratching.”

    “So, I suppose you need an itch relief potion, then?” Severus didn’t even bother to raise an eyebrow, and Poppy felt worry start to gnaw at her stomach- the disease was far more serious in adults…

    “Yes, and enough for young Ron Weasley as well,” Poppy said.

    “I’ve already got some brewing,” Severus told her, one hand gripping his head as light from the hallway flooded in.  “I made extra just in case, and apparently that’s a good thing- _why,_ exactly, are we getting a redhead to go with our red _spots?”_ He grumped.

    “Molly wants to immunize him early- speaking of which, I’m surprised you’ve never had it,” Madame Pomfrey remarked, and the young man in front of her just huffed an irritated breath.

    “The only other child I had exposure to pre-Hogwarts was Lily, and she got it long before I knew her.  I didn’t live near any other children, and even if I was, I doubt I would have been allowed to spend time with them.”  Poppy felt her jaw clench at the reminder of Severus’ abusive childhood, and she thanked Merlin and Morgana they’d gotten Harry out of the Dursleys’ before it got any worse.

    “Well, I’m going to go ahead and set you up a place in our quarters, because you shouldn’t be alone with this- it’s not a good thing for an adult to have,” Poppy informed him, and he groaned.

    “Is Unca Sevvy gonna be okay?” Harry asked worriedly, and his mama looked at him.

    “Yes baby, he’ll be just fine- we’re simply going to keep an eye on him.  Now, let’s go put some potion on you, and then Ron can come over and play.”

    “Yay! Won!” Harry clapped his mittened hands together.

    “First let’s get some of that potion on you, though,” Poppy said, kissing his nose.  Then she glared at Severus, who was digging his nails into his arm. “And _you,”_ she added sternly.

    Twenty minutes later, she had two boys, covered in anti-itching salve that smelled like rubber, with their nails clipped short and wearing socks on their hands.  Severus had been forced by Poppy to eschew his usual thick black robes.

    “They’ll only exacerbate your discomfort, and frankly the pox ruin your ‘dark and brooding’ aesthetic already,” she said, pressing a set of light cotton clothing into his mittened hands.

    “I’m still kinda itchy,” Harry remarked, “and I smell funny.”  He sniffed at the light purple potion smeared on his numerous spots.

    “Yes, well, chicken pox are a tricky thing to treat, and I’m not exactly in any state to be making something that will work better than this garbage recipe on the books,” he grumbled, and even more spots had popped up on his face since he’d been changing.  He shoved his hand against the side of his head, rubbing vigorously and then giving a dirty look to the sock keeping him from scratching.

_____

    “Won!” Harry cried, running up to his best friend, who was sitting on the couch in the living room of their quarters, swinging his legs as he waited for Harry.

    “Hawwy!” The redhead cried in return.  “You’we all polka-dotty, and you smell funny,” he said, wrinkling his nose as they hugged.

    “I got da chickenpox,” the other toddler explained.  “Bawk bawk!”

    “Oh, dat’s no fun,” Ron sighed in sympathy.  “Hewe, we can pway togetha to help you feel betta,” he told his friend.

    “Unca Sevvy got da chickenpox too,” Harry said solemnly.  “Should we ask him if _he_ wantsta pway too?”

    “I don’t think Uncle Sevvy is feeling up to playing at the moment,” Poppy broke in, looking at Severus, who was looking rather woozy but, despite what he might say to the contrary, would never deny Harry anything he asked, even at the cost of his own health.  “It’s a little worse for him than it is for you, Harry, so he needs to go lie down for a bit.” She escorted the young man to their guest room by the arm, pulling back the sheets and helping him into bed.

    “I’m fine- you didn’t have to make his face fall like that,” Severus grunted as he inched his aching body into a more comfortable position.

    “What a softie you are, hmm?” Poppy couldn’t help but smile as she fluffed the pillows.  “But it really _is_ important that you rest, dear, however happy I am to learn you have a heart.”

    “Just because I like Harry doesn’t mean I’m any fonder of _you,”_ the man griped, gritting his teeth as a particularly strong itch made its presence known between his shoulder blades.

    “If you say so,” Poppy shook her head and rolled her eyes.  “Now, if you need anything, just ring this bell, alright?” She conjured a little handheld bell and put it on the night table, and Severus hummed a little noise of acquiescence in the back of his throat.

_____

    While Poppy kept a close eye on Severus, Minnie made extra sure that Ron and Harry spent lots of time together- she had them eat off the same plate, drink from the same sippy cup; she even had them take a bath together, despite the fact that it was full of oatmeal.

    “Dat’s not a baf, dat’s bweakfast,” Harry insisted, watching dubiously as his Mama Flower dumped a scoop of oats into the water.

    “I know it seems silly, but it will help with the itching,” she told him with a laugh as he quirked one eyebrow, eerily reminiscent of her _other_ itchy, dark-haired toddler.

    “But _I’m_ not itchy,” Ron declared.

    “Yes, but don’t you wanna take a bath with Harry?” Poppy asked, knowing she had him beat.

    “Well, yeah…” Ron seemed to consider this.  “The bafwater won’t make me itchy, will it?”

    “The bathwater won’t, no…” Poppy realised she was walking a fine line, but _technically_ she wasn’t lying- the bathwater _itself_ wouldn’t make Ron itchy, but with any luck, the itchy little boy _in_ the bathwater would.

    “Okay!” Ron agreed, and _oh,_ how adorably naive sweet little children were.  Poppy ignored the stab of guilt- if he didn’t get it now, poor Ron could end up like the 22-year-old in the next room, who was lying in the dark with a migraine on top of sheets soaked in fever sweat and with an awful itching ravaging his nerve endings that no amount of salve seemed to ease.

____

    It took two days, but Ron eventually woke, covered in the itchy spots, even redder than his hair, trying very hard not to scratch, his little hands clenched into fists.

    “I’m sowwy Won,” Harry was saying.  “I musta gived it to you.”

    “S’okay Hawwy- you didn’t _mean_ to,” Ron said magnanimously, and Poppy smiled as she came in to gather him for the bath and salve.  Unfortunately, Harry and Sev both demonstrated that the cream seemed to lose its effect over time, but it helped a little to start with an oatmeal or baking soda bath and _then_ add the potion.  Unfortunately, Severus was feeling so rubbish that Poppy didn’t feel comfortable leaving him in the bath on his own, which was positively _mortifying_ for the young man (for Poppy, it was just part of her job).

    “Well, let’s get you two taken care of,” she instructed her boys cheerfully.  Severus was still sleeping after a bad night- some of the pox happened to be _inside_ his stomach, causing him terrible nausea, and he’d been throwing up most of the night.  Poppy knew, of course, that he’d done terrible things, but he was really trying to be a better person- he never turned Harry away, no matter how busy he was, and he really made an effort not to get irritated with his students even though he _really_ wasn’t the type of person made to be a teacher.  He’d lost his temper once or twice, but it was with upper years who knew better messing around and causing problems that could have put other students in danger, and she couldn’t say she blamed him for being stern about that.  

    The probable reason he _had_ the chickenpox in the first place was that he’d babysat Harry a couple nights before he’d fallen ill so she and Minerva could have a date in Hogsmeade, and the healer definitely didn’t think he deserved to be this miserable when he’d been trying so hard to be a better person.  She’d objected sternly to his appointment as potions professor in the first place, and she’d honestly had a lot of hard feelings towards him in the beginning- rough childhood or no, she didn’t think that justified the decisions he’d made. But he’d surprised her, once Harry came into their lives.  Even throughout his illness, he hadn’t snapped at Harry, not even yesterday when he’d snuck away to come check on him (very loudly). He’d just groaned, picked him up onto the bed, and started reading to him from a potions journal, ignoring his sore throat.

    The sickness had been hard on him, since he got it as an adult, and she reminded herself of this as she wrapped little Ron’s hands in socks despite his protestations.

    “Alright, why don’t you two play in the toy room for a while?” She asked her boys, all bathed and fed and lathered in lotion.  “Unless you’re not feeling well enough?”

    “We’re fine Mama Flower- just itchy,” Harry assured her, and Ron nodded his agreement as Harry led him by the hand towards the playroom.

    “Okay then darlings- I’ll be in to check on you in a little while,” she said, heading in to check on Severus.

    “Hello there,” she said softly, opening the door.  “How’re you doing?”

    “Brilliant,” he croaked sarcastically.  “Just brilliant.”

    “Do you think you’re up to eating anything- something soft and bland?”

    “I swear to Merlin woman, if you say oatmeal…”

    “I was actually thinking cream of wheat,” the healer said, unable to help a chuckle from escaping.

    “Lovely- old people food,” he groaned, but shaking, spotted hands picked up the spoon on the tray she placed on his lap and dipped it in the bowl.

    “Do you think it will stay down?” She asked, as Severus put a bite in his mouth.

    “No,” he moaned, making a face and turning distinctly green as he felt the nausea rise in his throat.  “I’ll have to try again later. How’s Harry?”

    “He’s doing alright- he still has energy to play and is eating fine, more or less.  Ron just came down with it this morning.”

    “That’s… _something,_ then.”

    “Why don’t you try to get back to sleep for a bit, while I go check on the boys?” She sighed, feeling his forehead with dissatisfaction- the fever was rising.  She pulled the blankets off of him, and the man made a sound that could only be described as a whimper.

    “I know it’s cold; I’m sorry- your fever is just too high.  I’ll be right back with a fever reducer, once I’ve looked in on the boys,” she told him, sighing.

    Walking into the playroom, she was greeted with a sight- both boys had somehow gotten the mittens- the ones she’d charmed _with an extra-strength sticking charm,_ off of their hands, and Ron was scratching away at Harry’s back with one hand while the other scratched his leg.  His own back was sporting bright red claw marks, and it seemed that this was a _literal_ ‘you scratch my back, I scratch yours’ type of situation. Harry, like the selfless darling he was, had eased Ron’s discomfort first, but the fact remained that they shouldn’t be scratching at all.

    “Excuse me boys,” Poppy scolded, and they both looked up guiltily.  Ron didn’t seem _too_ perturbed about getting caught, other than the fact that it disrupted his glorious relief, but Harry’s eyes were wide and frightened.

    “I’m sowwy, Mama Flower- I was just _so itchy_ and den I wished I could scwatch and da socks went off our hands and I couldn’t help it!  I promise I won’t scwatch again, just pwease don’t send me back to Tune-i-a and Vern,” his lip warbled, and Poppy felt her heart break- it had been naive of her to think that just a few months of love could rid him of the effects of such a traumatic experience in such a crucial stage of his development.

    “Oh, baby,” she sighed, picking him up and holding him to her.  “I will _never_ send you back to those monsters- nothing you could do would _ever_ make me stop loving you or do anything to hurt you, little one.  Mama Mins and I are yours forever.”

    “Fowever?” He asked, still uncertain, and Poppy pet his sweaty curls.

    “Forever,” she confirmed, and looked down to see Ron tugging her robes.

    “I will awso be here for Hawwy fowever,” he promised, and Poppy smiled down at him.

    “I think emotions are a little high right now,” she told the two boys.  “You’re probably feeling a little worse than you thought you were, so why don’t I put you back in bed for a bit and read you a story, hmmm?”

    “Can we wead Wanda da Witch?” Harry asked, and Poppy nodded.

    “Of course,” she said, knowing how much her boy loved Wanda the Witch.  Within moments of her opening the book, both boys were fast asleep.

_____

    A week later, and Harry’s spots had scabbed over and then cleared up completely.  He had one scar by his elbow and one behind his knee from those moments that he just couldn’t resist having a scratch, and Poppy honestly couldn’t blame him.  Ron followed a couple days later, and Severus, bless him, had an awful case that took a while to clear up. His spots were just beginning to scab over by the time both boys were clear-skinned and chipper-eyed again, but he didn’t object to their company no matter how awful he was feeling.

    “And wook- dese are our battle scaws,” he said, pointing to the pockmarks on his elbow and knee, and the two on Ron’s tummy as they both sat on Severus’ bed ‘cheering him up.’  Poppy had tried to take them somewhere else, but the man insisted he was up for it.

    “How valient of you,” Severus couldn’t help a smirk- he too, ended up with a few scars: one on his left collarbone and two on his right hip, but Harry seemed to be quite proud of his, which made the entire experience a little more tolerable.

    “Where’d you get dat one on your shoulda?” Ron asked, pointing to the three-inch scar along Harry’s shoulder blade.

    “Dat one’s from Vern,” he told his friend.  “He pushed me into da table cuz I couldn’t sweep.”  Severus clenched his fists- he hadn’t known that story.

    “Oh,” Ron’s face fell.  “Dat was mean- mummy would _never_ do dat to me.”

    “Neider would mamas,” Harry agreed.  “Dat’s why dey took me away.”

    “And they’ll _never_ send you back,” Severus told him firmly, if a bit raspy- his throat was still a little sore.

    “I know- dey told me,” Harry said, seeming fairly convinced for now, but Severus knew from experience that there would be times in the future where he would need more assurance.

    “Hey,” Harry softly put a little brown hand on his face.  “Why you sad?”

    “I’m sad you had to go through that, Harry,” he opted for honesty, since no adults were around to see that and hold it over his head.

    “And I’m sad you’we sick, but it’ll be okay,” Harry told him wisely, reaching for the cold flannel on the night-table and flopping it somewhat indelicately on Severus’ warm forehead.  He couldn’t help a hoarse chuckle.

____

    A week later, and Severus was finally back on his feet and Ron, now that he was sure not to infect Ginny, sent back home to see his family, who he’d missed very much, although of course he loved Harry to pieces as well.  Severus had lost about half a stone of weight and he was a bit paler than usual, but he was spot-free, fever-free and ready to go back to his own quarters. _And_ to eat solid food (and never _look_ at another bowl of oatmeal ever again).

    “Wiggy!” The snowy owlet flew down from the owelry to land on Harry’s shoulder as the toddler happily waddled down to the potions classroom with Severus, holding his hand.  The man mused that the bird seemed to have a sixth sense for when Harry was around- would it be _possible_ for him to have found a familiar at this young age?  Well, it shouldn’t be possible for him to control his accidental magic either, and yet they’d seen numerous instances of it.  The level of power the child had… it was definitely something to look into…

    “Hey,” Harry’s chipper little voice broke through his reverie.  “What’s wong?”

    “Nothing,” Severus promised.  “All is well.” And it was.


End file.
